Escalation
by emmi-hime
Summary: Scott and Rogue have begun a tentative romantic relationship, but now all of the X-Men are coming back from Washington D.C. Conflicts will rise as Jean's erratic behavior worsens. The Junior X-Men will join the adult team. Rogue will take on new responsibilities and experience her first real relationship. Second part of Alternate X-Men Trilogy, sequel to Contemplation.


Disclaimer: Everything that doesn't belong to me, doesn't. And whatever does, does.

**Escalation**

Part 2 of the Alternate X-Men Trilogy

Words: 2,541

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Chapter 1: Vacation Ends

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The two weeks were up.

The next morning, Xavier would be returning from Washington D.C. with the X-Men (and the Junior X-Men) in tow. And Scott and Rogue would no longer have the whole mansion to themselves…

Needless to say, the two were making the most of their final evening alone together.

They had decided to order take-out so that they could soak in the stillness of the mansion while they could, for as soon as the other members of the household returned, the building's current serenity would be driven out by its _inordinately_ active residents. Kitty, no doubt, would walk through all the walls without knocking. Pyro would bemoan, once again, the fact that the kitchen did not possess a gas stove (a wise choice, both Scott and Rogue agreed). Jubilee – gregarious girl that she was – would be seemingly everywhere at once, picking up on every tidbit of information that people did or did not say. That is, when she was not shooting brilliant sparks out of her hands and singeing the rugs.

And really, that just included most of the recent graduates. The X-Men, too, would add their own brand of liveliness/disturbance to the premise. Especially Jean and Logan in the midst of their recent _public_ relationship.

Thus, Rogue and Scott currently sat on the floor of the recreation room between the sofa and the coffee table, a handful of cartons of Chinese take-out on the low, wooden table before them. As it was the last night of their holiday, the two mutants wanted to make the evening perfect without having to leave the property.

The tall, brown-haired man and the curvy young woman had planned the evening carefully hours before. As if it were an X-Men mission, the two deliberated over their plan of action. In the end, the mutants decided to divide and conquer: Scott would take care of the food (by now, he had a good understanding of what the woman did and did not like) while Rogue would manage the location and atmosphere.

When he left the mansion to order and pick up their meal, the young woman began her preparations.

She had instantly decided that they would not be eating in the usual places. They had frequently eaten together at the kitchen island, occasionally at the kitchenette in one or other of their rooms, and sometimes at restaurants. They had never eaten in the dining room. The room was too large. Too formal. Too empty and still. It would only remind them of the company they both missed, however much they dreaded the inevitable disturbances. It was eerie to be in that room alone.

The rec room, however, was ideal. It was a comfortable room, and the two mutants had made it a sort of second home for themselves. When Scott and Jean's relationship began having problems in the spring, the man had taken to sleeping on the rec room couch at night. Then, during the vacation, Rogue had used the room for many of her daily activities – roller-skating, painting, dancing. And when Cyclops had returned from Washington D.C. early, the young woman had built an elaborate fort in the room, which the two wound up sleeping in side by side. In short, the room held fond memories for them both.

Thus, the young woman – satisfied with her choice – had set up the atmosphere. A couple of plain, unscented pillar candles found their way onto the coffee table (unscented because she did not want the fragrance to interfere with the taste of the food). Then, hooking up her ipod to the room's impressive stereo system, she cued it up to the playlist she had made earlier in the day. The music was bluesy – soft enough that conversation would not inhibited but still lively enough that it was not boring. Rogue was not sure exactly where Scott's tastes ran when it came to the blues, but she knew that when it came to music, the man was voracious and his preferences in genre as varied as her own.

When the two mutants met up for dinner in the hallway outside of their new rooms, they were both dressed in the perfect balance of comfortable and dressy. Scott had pulled on a white button-down shirt over his black slacks. The collar and cuffs were un-starched, the first couple buttons left undone, and the sleeves rolled up nearly to his elbows. Rogue thought he looked magnificent. Meanwhile, she had donned a long-sleeved silk dress of royal blue that cinched in at the waist and flowed out elegantly to her just above her knees. Beneath this, she wore a pair of black tights that did _amazing_ things to her legs. Neither had bothered with shoes.

Now, the two were sprawled side by side between the couch and the coffee table, chopsticks clicking to the sound of the blues. And every now and then, the man and woman would clasp their bare hands for a few minutes at a time.

After Rogue's successful experiment with touch, the two mutants had had nearly a whole week to practice and improve her control. The final days of the vacation had been spent with pokes, handholding, pecks on the cheek, and even one particularly memorable massage. Rogue had never been so happy. They had yet to define what they were to one another, exactly – too busy, as they were, enjoying the brief moments of contact. The young woman could now sustain physical contact for a little over nine minutes without inflicting harm.

However, she had the sneaking suspicion that tonight was the moment in which their future would be decided. Their relationship defined. It made sense, after all; they should figure out what they were to one another and where they were going before having to explain their relationship to others. If Scott did not bring it up, Rogue had determined that she would.

Watching as the young woman delivered another piece of sweet and sour pork to her lips, Scott broached the subject. "Rogue…" he began as she chewed. "I know I'm a stick in the mud sometimes, probably too old for you, and I used to be your teacher. Not to mention my recent failed engagement…"

Rogue's emerald gaze was firmly glued upon his face by that point, though her face did not betray her thoughts just yet. Scott examined her expression closely. There was pleasant clenching in his chest as he realized that she was allowing him to unload everything before speaking or making any overtures, positive or negative. It was just like when he had arrived at the mansion a week early and she had heard his tale without interruption. He had needed it then – desperately so. Just as he needed it now.

"But my feelings towards you…" He paused. "They're _more_ than that of a teacher to his student. _More_ than friendship. And certainly not platonic." Sneaking a glance at her eyes, he could have sworn he saw a delighted gleam there at his last statement. It was gone the next moment, though, so he could not be sure. "I… I care about you a lot Rogue. I don't know how much just yet, but I'd be willing to find out if you are. Would you… Would you be willing to give a relationship a try?"

Rogue waited a few seconds to be sure that he was done speaking, then, raised her bare hand to his cheek to tenderly stroke along his jawline. "I'd love to, Scott." She grinned. "Do you s'ppose this counts as a first date?"

Scott's eyes lit up from behind his glasses, and his mouth formed a playful half-smirk. "Second or third, maybe. First? No." Then, cradling the hand she had placed upon his face, he lifted it slowly to his lips, pressing a few affectionate kisses to her smooth palm. Rogue's eyelids drifted halfway shut as a shudder of arousal overcame her. _Lord! The man just doesn't know what he does to me!_

Gently, the man released her hand and held himself so very still as the woman drifted her fingertip along the line of his lips. It tingled in the pleasantest of ways, and Scott had to remind himself of her sexual inexperience to prevent him from pulling her onto his lap. He desperately wanted to overindulge all of his senses with her. But he would wait. He would control himself for as long as she needed. They would take the physical aspect of their relationship at _her_ pace, although Scott figured a few small nudges on his part would not be unwelcome.

With that thought in mind, he let his tongue slip between his lips slightly, just enough to catch the pad of her finger. But all the while, he kept his attention fastened on her to gauge her reaction.

At the touch of his tongue, there was a sudden inhale, her eyes going wide. Then, in the next moment, her green gaze turned dark, the pupils dilating rapidly. Scott nearly groaned aloud at the sight. It appeared his conjecture months ago was correct: Rogue was _much_ more sensitive to touch than most people.

If she was already this aroused, how responsive would she be later on?

Scott shook the though off. _Her_ pace. They were going to go at _her_ pace. Not his. No matter how much he wanted her. Pulling Rogue's hand from his face to rest in his own between them, he offered her a bite of lo-mein with his chopsticks. She opened her lips and allowed him to feed her, sending him a thoughtful smile as she chewed.

Rogue could not be certain, but reading into the man's actions closely, she believed that he was purposely trying to keep the physical progression of their relationship slow. On the one hand, the deep ache within her wanted to damn that to hell. But, the woman found herself appreciating his thoughtfulness more than anything else. She knew she was not yet ready to leap head first into sex. Not emotionally. Not physically. And it meant a great deal that Scott recognized that.

Following his lead, she remarked, "I'm rather full. You?"

"The same."

"Then why don't we pack the leftovers in the 'fridge and clean up the room?" she suggested with a soft glance. His smile was her reply. Scott stood up immediately, extending his hand to her and helping to pull her up. They carried the cartons of Chinese to the kitchen island then came back to the rec room. While Rogue unplugged her ipod and shut down the stereos, Scott blew out the candles and gathered them up to tuck back into one of the kitchen cabinets.

Then, as the two shifted the leftovers into the refrigerator, Scott realized, "We forgot about the fortune cookies!" He handed her one as he set about opening his own. Popping the tiny desert into his mouth, the man watched her follow suit. "So, what does yours say?"

"New opportunities and responsibilities will lead to success," she replied, reading off the slip of paper. "And you?"

"Your patience will be rewarded."

"You know, Scott," Marie slyly began, "back home we'd on phrases to the end of fortune cookies… Silly little phrases. Sometimes it'd be _like a vampire_ or _in accordance with the prophecy_, but the usual one was _in bed_."

Scott gulped and his eyebrows shot up. She was flirting with him. _Heavily_ flirting with him. The kind of flirting that usually resulted in sex. And God help him, he loved it. He loved the way her voice got low and slightly husky when she said _in bed_. He loved that glint of arousal in her eyes and the seductive curl of her lips.

"That," she continued, "would make your fortune: Your patience will be rewarded _in bed_."

Drifting his hand up her arm, he leaned close to her ear and remarked, "And what about those opportunities and responsibilities leading to your success in bed?" Scott could feel the brush of her curls as the young woman subconsciously leaned into his nearness and low voice. Regretfully pulling himself to a safer distance, he gave on of the brown curls a soft tug. Chiding her with a playful lilt to his voice, the man remarked, "You might not want to tease me _too_ much, Rogue. You'll find I can give as good as I get."

Breathless, she replied, "_Oh_ I hope so." Her cheeks immediately heated up at her response. The two chuckled lightly over her embarrassing statement – clearly, she had not meant to speak the thought aloud. However, Scott certainly did not mind it, it was gratifying to know he was not the only one of the couple to be thinking about and looking forward to more blatant sexual encounters.

"Come on, dear-heart. It's late." So saying, Scott lead her up to their floor, his hand holding hers still – in spite of having to plug in overnight security codes or turning out lights and such as they went.

Standing outside Rogue's door with her, the man searched for words. But she beat him to it. "Charles and the rest will be back tomorrow," the young woman remarked softly. Her eyes turned worried. "If you wanted… we could keep _us_ low-key for a little while to avoid more awkwardness." To Scott, she sounded rather reluctant about her offer.

"Is that what you want?" he inquired softly, ducking to catch her eyes.

Just barely, Rogue shook her head. "Not really, no. But I'd be willing to if you preferred."

"Well, I honestly don't see why we should have to hide," he reassured her. "I want this relationship with you to work, Rogue. And to do that, it needs honesty and room to grow. Besides, you and I are the only ones that have a say in our relationship."

"Not even the Professor?" she teased, her expression much lighter.

Scott wrinkled his nose quickly. "I suppose there should be a certain _deference_ to those in authority." Shaking his head gently and allowing a smile to shine down on the young woman, he continued, "But I highly doubt Xavier will have a problem with us together." They both left unspoken the fact that the rest of the X-Men and the soon-to-be former-Junior X-men might.

"Well, then I guess I'll see you in the DR at the usual time," Rogue said, her voice soft and slightly awkward, unsure how to end their date.

"That you will." Scott leaned down to press a quick kiss to the end of her nose, then – before he could back out – he nudged his head lower, pressing his lips to her own.

Her lips were soft and full and oh so pliant beneath his own. As he pulled away from her lips, he noticed with satisfaction that the young woman was slightly dazed from his attention. "Good night Rogue."

"'Night," she whispered, blinking her eyes back into focus as she stepped into her room. Shutting the door mildly behind her, she jumped onto her bed, burying her excited squeals into the pillows. "_Lord!_ That man is too much – and I bet he knows it too!"

Rogue fell asleep that night with a smile still present on her (honest-to-goodness) kissed lips.

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End file.
